


Shines Like Ice

by All_Hail_Reylo (McDanno50)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff & Angst, Force Bond (Star Wars), Mild Language, Nightclub Setting, One Shot, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Sexual Tension, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-01 13:50:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13296210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McDanno50/pseuds/All_Hail_Reylo
Summary: Her cheeks flush in embarrassment but her gaze finally makes its way to his face. A very familiar, angular yet handsome face belonging to Kylo Ren, the Supreme Leader of the First Order.Their latest mission for the Resistance takes them to Coruscant. Abandoned by her friends at a nightclub, Rey hears him across their Force Bond. Kylo Ren has found her. He's ready to take the next step, but is it toward the Light or the Dark?





	Shines Like Ice

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own 'Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi' or any other entity of the Star Wars franchise. The characters and general plot of the movie(s) all belong to their respectful owners. It was not my intention to offend anyone by the writing of this story. This story is Unbeta'd so please forgive any mistakes you may read.
> 
> Hello fellow Reylo fans! I'm going to be upfront and honest in saying that I have not seen any other Star Wars film (in its entirety) until the sequel trilogy (TFA & TLJ). I don't claim to be an expert on the Force or any other wacky thing about this universe but I'm in love with the Reylo relationship.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this story. If you do, leave a comment. If you don't, leave a comment.

          The music is loud to her ears, thumping in her chest and down to her toes. Rey isn’t quite sure if she likes the song that’s playing but she enjoys the sight of clubgoers swaying along to the beat. Seeing humans and creatures from across the galaxy, some familiar and some not, gathered in one dark, sweaty place just to dance is fascinating. Some are doing more than just dancing. She isn’t so naïve even as she turns her curious eyes away from three people grinding against each other and swapping what she hopes is just saliva.

          “I can’t believe you guys have never been to a club!” Poe Dameron, the most talented pilot in the Resistance, shouts over the cacophony of sound.

          Next to Rey, Finn shudders with an acute look of horror. “Nope,” he says. “And I hope to never visit one again.”

          Rey doesn’t rise to the dangling bait that is Poe’s wolfish grin. She may be just a scavenger girl from Jakku but she has seen holos of places like this. Of course, nothing compares to the real-life experience she’s getting tonight. The club is named Coruscation, after the planet on which it resides: Coruscant. The place is huge with three levels; the first is the dance floor, filled to the brim with the bodies of man and alien alike. The second level is where she, Finn, Poe and Rose are sitting at a comfy booth near the well-stocked bar. According to Poe, the third level is a ‘mystery’, its contents known only to Coruscation’s VIP members.

          “Hey!” Rose shouts over the din of the music. She’s addressing them all, but Rey can tell the girl only has eyes for Finn. “Let’s go dance.”

          Finn steels himself by taking a deep breath. “Okay.”

          Rey claps happily as the two take off down the corridor, presumably to the first floor where the dancing has sped up. The current song is fast and edgy, and the neon lights shining down on the glittering black floor are hypnotizing. Rey just hopes Finn doesn’t faint.

          Poe startles her out of her musing with a tap to her bare shoulder. She shivers in response as he leans close to speak in her ear. “Are you okay waiting here alone?”

          Rey nods with a smile. Of course she is capable of waiting alone at a table built for many in a club she has never been in, surrounded by beings who may or may not want to devour her. But she is a Jedi in training, capable of using the Force, no matter how faintly thus far; also, she is not here for fun. No, Rey and her fellow Resistance fighters are here on a mission ordered directly from General Organa. They are to meet with a potential ally, capable of delivering the latest X-wing Starfighters to what remains of their cause. Poe is the leader of this mission while she and Finn are back-up should things go awry; Rose is meant to be out restocking supplies and ammunition, but Rey digresses.

          “Alert Homebase if I’m not back in an hour.” Poe orders before leaving her alone. His departing wink is not as reassuring as Rey thinks it was meant to be.

 

**\|/|\|/**

          Truly bartenders are the most gifted, Rey thinks, as he must’ve recognized her dire need of liquid courage. She hefts the crystalized glass and takes another sip of the neon blue, slightly smoking slush. It’s oddly bitter at first taste then turns sweet as it glides down her suddenly parched throat; she’s beginning to like it.

          Once she finishes off the drink she looks over her shoulder, past the railing of the second floor and down onto the first. The music has gone from frenzied and chaotic to a slower, hypnotic beat. She can see Finn and Rose from her spot, laughing and holding each other close as they try to avoid the beings surrounding them. Such a cute sight brings a smile to her face but loneliness creeps into her heart. She wishes she had someone to dance with.

          _“I’d probably be rubbish at it,”_ Rey thinks somberly.

          Then, as Rey reaches for her near empty glass, a voice whispers in her mind, startling her into clarity. _“I disagree,”_ it says.

          Only two words are spoken but she immediately recognizes the honeyed tone of her foe, Kylo Ren. She jumps up from her spot on the comfy couch, wobbling slightly on shoes not meant to be worn by a girl from the desert. She tries to be more discreet, turning her head this way and that before peering through the crowds of the second floor then the first. Her search proves fruitless as the new Supreme Leader of the First Order does not appear beside her as he usually does when the Force Bond connects them. Damn, she really wishes she knew how this was still possible; the connection should have ended after Kylo killed Snoke, but alas, his deep voice still haunts her even after the battle on Crait. She can still remember the last time she truly saw him as the Falcon door had closed on his sad, betrayed face.

          “Where are you?” She growls aloud. Her personal thoughts are clearly no longer private as the alcohol floods her system. She’s mostly cognizant, unsure on her feet because of the blasted heels she’s wearing and not the booze.

          “ _Here_ ,” he says in her mind. “ _Though_ _I’m surprised to find you in a place like Coruscation.”_

          Rey swallows down a lump of worry. She’s not afraid of him, never really has been, but she worries for her friends who are still down on the dance floor having fun. No, everyone in this club is so blissfully unaware of the danger that has been presented to them.

          Kylo makes an irritated sound across their bond. “ _I’m not here for them_.”

          She snorts derisively in response. The female couple at the table next to hers stare at her like she’s crazy; they may be right about that. She leaves the relative safety of the booth and begins making her way through the crowd hovering near the bar. Once she’s reached the stairs she takes them quickly, intent on getting to the first floor to warn Finn and Rose. She stumbles at the end, her hand shooting out to the grimy wall to steady herself.

          “ _Be careful_ ,” Kylo warns. Always the contradiction, his tone is berating but gentle.  

          Rey curses. _“How can you see me but I can’t see_ you _?”_

          A distant chuckle echoes across their bond, almost as if the connection were an old radio and the audio stutters in and out. Rey is bitter about that; after all, it’s not everyday one hears the supposed ruler of the galaxy chuckle like the boy that he is. She wonders if she would have seen a smile, a real smile, had she accepted his proposition to rule the galaxy with him. No, she can’t think about this right now.

_“You’re not looking hard enough.”_

          What is that supposed to mean?!

          The connection crackles before falling silent. The Force Bond has closed; such impeccable timing can’t be a coincidence. Rey believes he has finally found a way to open and close the bond between them. As much as she would desperately like to avoid a confrontation with Kylo Ren, she needs to know what he knows so she can guard herself against future intrusions into her head. Perhaps that very knowledge is what brought him here to a club in the middle of the Underground on Coruscant. Yes, he said he wasn’t here for her friends and oddly enough, Rey believes him. He has never lied to her and she thinks it would be unlikely for him to start now.

 

**\|/|\|/**

 

          Giving the clubgoers a wide berth, Rey searches for Finn and Rose along the outskirts of the dance floor. What little Jedi training she obtained from Master Skywalker is surprisingly helpful as she weaves and dodges grabby appendages from overeager dancers. The music is almost deafening but she’s sorely tempted to just shout and yell for her friends rather than spend precious time wandering. She’s been keeping an eye out for Kylo as well but she hasn’t been so unfortunate as to come across his overbearingly smug figure.

          Strange, Rey thinks, that a man shrouded in black robes wearing a monstrous mask could blend in a crowd like this. Shouldn’t everyone be running and screaming as the red glow from Kylo’s lightsaber glitters across the floor?

          The song changes just as she’s made a half circuit around the dance floor. The lights dim along with the mood and atmosphere of the club. The song is all thumping bass, beat capable of moving bodies to a mishmash of rhythms. The crowds begin to close in on Rey from all sides. Her nerves are climbing higher because she’ll never find Finn and Rose like this when suddenly she’s bumping into someone. Her head swivels forward, ready to apologize profusely or possibly fight off an unwelcome dance partner.

          Now, Rey may be taller than most human women, but the devilish shoes Rose picked out make little difference to the man in front of her as her nose is level with his sternum. Dimly, she registers he’s wearing all black; his ensemble begins with a simple tunic untied at the collar, revealing the smooth planes of his speckled throat and chiseled chest. The tunic’s sleeves are rolled to the elbow to expose pale muscular forearms. For a reason she cannot explain, her eyes follow his body down to long legs sheathed in shapely trousers, and further on to feet protected by leather boots. All in all, the man is impeccably dressed but not as if he’s ‘trying too hard’, a saying Poe used earlier when dressing Finn for the club.

          Her cheeks flush in embarrassment but her gaze finally makes its way to his face. A very familiar, angular yet handsome face belonging to Kylo Ren, the Supreme Leader of the First Order.

          His voice is controlled but measured to be heard over the music. “Hello.”

          Rey does not know the proper way to respond except what comes out of her mouth next. “What the kriffing hell are you doing here?!”

          “The same as you.” Kylo raises a brow at her gaping expression. When she fails to respond immediately, he elaborates but just barely. “Restocking supplies.”

          She sighs and pinches her brow; men can be so exasperating. They haven’t seen each other since the Resistance escaped from the First Order on the salty planet Crait. Their bond has also been mostly silent with few verbal communications between them and only a handful of literal visions. After all that happened between them, talking about their personal experiences, killing Snoke and fighting side by side, Rey thinks Kylo would have the courtesy to at least try to attack her as if she were a real threat. However, his demeanor exudes calm as if he’s just met up with a friend he hasn’t seen in a long time. But that can’t be true, can it? They were never really friends to begin with.

          She tries to speak through their bond hoping he can hear. She doesn’t want the entire club to panic. _“I meant, what are you doing_ here _at this club, dressed like…well, you know…”_

          She trails off, unsure of their connection and losing her confidence as his expression pierces through her. His stare is molten, brown eyes warm and affectionate but brimming with passion. For what? She tries to follow his gaze down her body, but grows self-conscious as he examines her clubbing outfit with what she hopes isn’t disdain. She’s wearing a black bra, covered by a near transparent white tank-top that’s casually half-tucked into a black leather mini-skirt. His gaze finally makes it to her toes, painted red and wedged into black heels with four sparkling straps wrapped around her ankles. She has never felt more exposed and anxious than she does right now. Odd, considering they have fought each other with violent intent more than once. This interaction would be so much easier if he would just try to attack her already.

          _“I felt you nearby and…I was curious.”_ He responds after a moment, almost as if he’s gathering his thoughts.

          He looks nervous and the mere thought of Kylo Ren anything but self-assured is laughable to Rey. And yet, they are both out of their element, far away from the comforts of training and the bitter fighting of war. But they are enemies, right? Two people, the last of their kind really, waging a battle against each other, light versus dark, coming together at a club to chit chat. It all seems so strange that Rey starts laughing hysterically.

          “Why’re you laughing?” He growls aloud. He may sound menacing but his chocolate eyes are smiling now and Rey can’t help it. She points at his outfit and his eyes drift down, following her finger with furrowed brows.

          Rey grins. “You look different.”

          A roll of his eyes is his only response before he grabs her hand. Ben Solo, not Kylo Ren, leads her through the throng of clubgoers clustered on the dance floor. She should be panicking by the way he holds her hand with such intent; the scene is reminiscent of the time he led her to Snoke in handcuffs. Instead, she panics with the realization of where they’re headed, the sudden clarity stemming only from a rush of adrenaline. She tries digging her heels in, begging him to stop but he ignores her, his large hand wrapped firmly and confidently around her much smaller one.  

          The music has changed again. It begins with a strumming of electric strings, beat smooth and bass popping in her ears. Rey isn’t sure if she likes it until the delicate female voice croons over the speakers; the lyrics are hard to make out but the sound is artful in its seduction.

          Her eyes close of their own accord. Rey doesn’t understand this feeling that washes over her; it feels like trust. But can she really trust Ben to lead her true? She thought she could trust him ages ago when she saw conflict in him. Now, she’s not so sure but a dance is just a dance, right? If accepting his not-quite-offer to dance stops him from massacring everyone in this club, including her friends, then she has no choice but to make a fool of herself.

 

**\|/|\|/**

 

          The song is in full swing; those that have been dancing all night begin to taper off when Ben brings them to a stop directly under the colorful, pulsating lights of the club. It must be his height, Rey muses, because he towers over the rest and his muscles may be shrouded in black but his size cannot be concealed by fabric. She swallows the saliva that has gathered in her mouth; she’s nervous but she manages to cup her hands around his pale throat like she has seen other women do when they dance.

          Ben smirks those plush lips and drags her closer by the hips. She stumbles but his sheer bulk steadies her. She flushes again when he leans down, mouth so close to her ear that she shivers when his hot breath curls around the shell.

          “Don’t worry,” he says. “I’ve got you.”

          Rey listens to his simple advice, to the song playing, to those dancing around her, and to her heart pounding wildly in her chest. Her head nods along to the haunting melody as her hips sway back and forth. What training she has done with Luke and otherwise gives her core strength so she uses it to grind a little against the man in her arms.

          Ben pulls her closer, arms tightening possessively around her as one large hand slides down her back to rest just above her ass. Surprisingly, it doesn’t bother her one bit. He also keeps his head close, his long dark locks brushing her own as they move together. She tips her face up, allowing her nose to brush gently against his cheek. She tries to be discreet in how she breathes him in, the dark forest scent wafting from him makes Rey feel safe amidst the flashing neon lights.

          She has just one thought as they move together: what will happen when the song ends? She knows what she wants to happen. She wants to be held, to be kissed, but most of all, she wants to just _be_. And she wants all that crazy, complicated stuff with him, current enemy status be damned.

          Ben groans at a particularly rough thrust of their hips. “R-Rey,” he stutters breathlessly.

          Her name sounds pretty when he says it, the uttered syllable so low and deep that it makes her body shiver in anticipation. She slides her hands down his throat; one goes to his broad chest where she allows her fingers to get pleasantly tangled in the strings meant to hold his tunic together. Her other splays across his wide shoulder to pull him impossibly closer to her; he’s so warm that she never wants to let him go.

          But nothing else happens. The song, lovely and appropriate, now drones on as mere background noise while Rey struggles to watch Ben who is clearly struggling to not watch her. It hurts her more than she thought it would. Does he not want this? Is she not being clear enough? She’s dancing with him, the Supreme Leader of the kriffing First Order and she’s wearing this ridiculous outfit, so why? They may be enemies outside of this club, but here, in this warm dark space with its loud music and colorful inhabitants, they can just be Ben and Rey.

          He teases his nose along hers. The action is promising but not what Rey wants right now. Still, he murmurs soft enough for her to hear: “Come with me.”

          Rey shudders. Not this again. “I already told you–”

          “Not that,” he growls. His moods shift so fast that she’s afraid of getting whiplash. “Come with me _upstairs_.”

          Understanding washes over her like a bucket of ice water and her eyes snap open. When had she closed them? Still, she should decline, slap him across his face for good measure then storm out of the club to fetch her lightsaber only to return to hack him to pieces. Only, she doesn’t have her lightsaber anymore because it’s still sitting broken but not forgotten at the bottom of her knapsack on the Falcon.

          She looks up at him once more. He’s leaned back some, worry etched across his scarred face as if she truly will leave this time and never speak to him again. He may be the proclaimed ruler of the galaxy and the most powerful Force user alive, but Ben Solo is still just a man capable of being hurt by a woman’s cruel words.

          Before she can doubt herself, Rey darts forward to peck Ben’s lips with her own. “Okay.”

 

**\|/|\|/**

 

          Rey isn’t sure how they made it past security and onto the elevator leading to the third floor reserved for VIPs. She decides to just ask Ben how he did it.

          “The Force,” he looks at her as if she’s an idiot. “Obviously.”

          The elevator doors are just opening as he gives her a wicked smirk. Ah, so he was kidding then. The chip he pulls out of his pocket a moment later has a reflective surface and is inscribed with a symbol Rey has never seen before. It would seem Coruscation is a bit more old-fashioned than she had been led to believe. 

          “Snark does not become you Kylo Ren,” she huffs.

          He’s quiet as he leads her down the hall to a door marked with that same symbol. A simple turn of the handle reveals a spacious room. Rey steps inside alone. She turns to see him standing in the doorway, wearing a pursed look as if he’s unsure of himself again.

          “What is it?” she asks. Have they made a mistake coming here? Does he not want her anymore? The endless possibilities resulting in his unusual silence has her obscenely nervous and it frustrates her. This one man should not have so much power over her.

          “You called me Kylo.”

          Ah, so this is it. Rey had thought it was Kylo who came to harm her but it was Ben who led her to the dance floor. Can the two possibly coexist? No, there can only be one man, just as there is Light or Dark, but she isn’t sure who stands before her. Ben Solo or Kylo Ren?

          It frightens Rey that she wants both but she tries deflecting with humor. “I’m not calling you Supreme Leader.”

          “I told you before,” he snaps. “I didn’t come here on First Order business.”

          Rey takes a breath to steady herself. She walks toward him as he’s still standing awkwardly in the doorway. Boldly, she places her hand on his chest just over his wildly beating heart; she imagines her own is beating in rhythm. The Force has kept the connection between them strong and the look he gives her in return makes her wonder if he feels it all the same.

          “Alright, Ben it is.”

          A proper kiss is her reward. He swoops down and presses his lips firmly to her own before his tongue traces the moist seam. Rey eagerly parts her lips, welcoming the delicate tease and tangle of their tongues. Large warm hands come up to cup her cheeks while her own rest pliantly on his broad chest. It scares her how much she loves being kissed by him when all her instincts and perhaps the voices of her friends in the Resistance are shouting at her to run away. But how can she?

          The man in Rey’s arms is the only one who _chose_ to be with her. He killed his master for her, and she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he has kept the First Order from hunting what little remains of the Resistance _for_ her. His feelings are beginning to affect her own and she’s fearful of what lies ahead.

          “Wait,” she turns her head, moaning when Ben’s lips follow the line of her throat. “I…don’t know if I can…do this.”

          He stops. “I understand.”

          Ben steps around her and moves to sit at the edge of the large bed in the center of the room. He cradles his head in his shaking hands and does not speak nor look at her.

          The Force urges Rey to go to him. She’s done fighting this crushing sense of loneliness.

          She walks over to the plush bed where he sits, lonely as ever, and uses his shoulder to brace herself. He tenses but otherwise remains still as she removes one strappy shoe then the other only to dump them ungracefully to the floor. She carefully climbs onto the bed, shuffling forward on her knees until she rests directly behind him. He’s so large that he looms even sitting down, but his back is warm as she wraps her arms around him. She tentatively presses her chest to his back only to melt into him as he begins to relax too. She gently rests her face against him and just breathes. His smell is potent here so she closes her eyes just to take in his unique, intoxicating scent.

          “What’s your favorite color?” She asks after a moment.

          A pause. “What?”

          Rey smiles and she knows that Ben can feel it through the fabric of his shirt. “I said, what is your favorite color?”

          He hums briefly, seriously considering his answer before responding. “Green.”

          His answer surprises her but she doesn’t show it even as he looks over his shoulder at her. Green is the color of healthy grass or the leaves of a blooming tree. Green is the harsh neon glow of his uncle’s lightsaber that threatened to strike him down.

          “I like green too,” she says. “My favorite is blue, but not just any blue.”

          “No?”

          She shakes her head. “It has to be a blue you’d find in water.”

          Ben Solo laughs.

          Rey smiles.

          It is the first step towards the Light, but for now, she’s content with the way his eyes twinkle and shine like ice.

**Author's Note:**

> This took me days to write (and another viewing of TLJ) before posting. I'm not confident I got the characters right but I tried. I'm just a sucker for Reylo, okay? Sue me (unless your Disney, then please don't). 
> 
> Check out the song playing in the club: Medieval Warfare by Grimes. 
> 
> Also, Rey's outfit goes a little like this:  
> https://www.pinterest.com/pin/AQlWH8BA18ZK0sXYiZ3a25mkXMeuHIcjuZnBZvt2pESgYPQaD7w00go/
> 
> AND her shoes:  
> https://www.pinterest.com/pin/439734351110087054/


End file.
